Broken Little Foes
by World Apart
Summary: Takes place during New Moon. Bella does try. She tries to make it hurt less when she's alone at night, by just trying to say his name.


**AN: This was written a few nights ago at about 2 in the morning. It didn't start out as fanfiction but it turned into one. It's just a little one shot AU on New Moon; it's basically a way I could have seen New Moon going while staying realistic. Please do enjoy.**

* * *

_**Wait for you to come back home  
To the broken little foes,  
Until the guilt grows and grows.  
When the time that's wasted,  
comes back to haunt me,  
And I'll deserve every bit**_

__  
_**-Glass in the Trees by Dead Poetic-**_

It's the way her skin crawls in the dark. The cold makes her shudder, a field of tiny bumps raising on her arms. She can't shake the twisting in her stomach, it's an all too real reminder that nothing ever works out they way it should. The words she mutters under her breath are a warning to the night but they do not comfort her. Love dropped off the planet and took with it every chance at comfort she'd ever known.

His image is the one that flutters across her mind when his name dies on her lips. She tries to say it every night in the dark solitude of her room, just to see if she can. It takes a lot of courage to even think it but she can't quite force the word to pour from her mouth in the way she did every other word in the English language. Every word was a battle too, just to force her voice to resemble some sort of human like cadence. If she didn't, the death rotting her core would surely be mirrored in her tone.

"He left," is the closest she can manage to his name at the moment. She pauses as his words swirl to form a dark cloud in her mind. Her breathing is shallow today she'll break routine, she'll take the ritual of expelling words to a new level. She'll say the words she always knew, the words he said himself before vanishing off the face of the earth. After all the words of a ghost can't possibly hurt that much. Steely determination settled in her stomach, and she felt a thrill of bravery tingling along the edges of her person. This time she wouldn't cry, this time not a single tear would be shed. "He doesn't love me."

Bravado, determination, and numbness fell away in that instant. Tears quickly filled her eyes, blurring her view of the darkened room before spilling onto her cheeks. Suddenly the insecurity of months earlier has returned and she can't help but drop to the bed in a position that gave her an imitation of security. Maybe he'd never been real in the first place. Maybe she'd invented every moment of his existence in some insane need to feel loved. It certainly seemed more plausible that Forks had driven her insane then the idea of a vampire, perfect in every way, loving her with so much passion that it trumped his nature to kill. What kind of perfect man would ever find an average girl like her self even remotely interesting.

She's sobbing words now, just quiet enough so that they won't stir Charlie from his sleep. She's not even sure what she's saying as her thoughts tumble forth unchecked. Had he been real, he would have loved this kind of purging from her mind. He had always longed to know her every thought. She heard apologies echo through her mind, vaguely aware that they were her own. Apologizing for not speaking her mind enough, perhaps he'd left because she'd kept her thoughts under close guard in certain matters.

As she slipped several more inches toward mental death she was unaware of the thing she'd wanted most. The very thing who's existence she questioned incessantly almost to the point of insanity was watching her carefully from outside. He'd never been able to stay away no matter how much he longed to let her alone. She never had to know he was there, as long as he knew she was safe he could live in content misery. He'd been dreading this moment almost as much as he looked forward to it. It was a demented conflict within his selfish core. He had hoped outwardly that his plan would work, letting her move on without him. The inner part of him, beast that he was, was hoping she was suffering without him, aching as much as he ached every second that she wasn't his.

As he climbed the tree outside her house, every inch of him soaked, he was expecting to see her sleeping peacefully in her bed as he'd seen her many nights past. He could easily conjure up the memory of her scent at the thought of such nights. The floral scent that clung to his clothes when he leapt from her window in as the dawn approached. The hauntingly delicious scent that would be always be as clear in his memory as if he were breathing it in at that moment.

What he found instead, as he sat on his perch gazing into her distant window was a sight that tore him to shreds. Even an eternal damnation of solitude, bitterness and bloodlust paled in comparison at the deep agony that pierced his long dead heart the instant he took in the sight of her. Her pale skin practically glowing in the darkness of her room, dark heavy bruises sagged beneath her lifeless eyes. Her face was haunted by the thousands of apparitions of memories wrenched away from her in an instant. The small frame of her body was thinner than it had been when he'd left and at present it shook violently and he heard a strangled sob drift through the walls of the house, through the rain, through the branches and it shook him as violently as it shook her. He struggled with the overwhelming urge to go to her and give her the comfort she so obviously needed. While he ached to hold her in his arms he couldn't be sure that she'd accept him so easily.

"He doesn't…he doesn't love me. He left me. Said so himself," The words drifted to him clearly, tinged with hysteria. He couldn't stop himself then, he dropped easily from the tree landing noiselessly on the grass once again being pounded by the ceaseless rain. He knew he'd said the words himself, but he couldn't let her believe it for a second longer. He ran to her house and scaled the familiar wall with ease. At the sill of her window he chanced a quick glance at her before slowly sliding the window open, grateful that she'd continued to leave her window unlocked. Even if she'd locked it he would have shattered the glass to get to her in that moment, it was all he could think about. He pulled himself through the window effortlessly and in seconds her heavenly scent assaulted him as he stood inside her room dripping onto her floor. Her sobbing went on and he knew she hadn't spotted him just yet.

"Bella," his shook as he whispered the word with a mix of reverence and terrible agony. He had no right to be here but he couldn't just back out after seeing her in such utter distress. Her head snapped around to him the second he spoke and for the first time in his endless existence he was truly afraid; afraid for the most part that she would be angry and send him away. Her sobs choked off as she took him in, almost afraid to believe he was really there. She stood slowly from the bed and took a hesitant step toward him.

And he didn't disappear. She exhaled shakily and strode slowly across the room to stand before him. She was raising her hand and it trembled in fear, for him each second was agony. She lightly touched his icy wet check, her breathing hitched at the feel of his stone flesh beneath her finger tips.

A gasp escaped her lips and she dropped her hand. Her mind was reeling with the possibility that this could have been a dream but she so desperately wanted to believe he was real.

"Edward," she whispered casting her eyes down as she let her hand drop from his face. He caught the way her voice sounded, as if greeting disappointment. In that instant he tossed caution to the wind. As gently as he could possibly manage he caught her up in his arms, his cool wet lips pressing to hers. The warmth and scent of her wrapped wholly around him. She was hesitant with mild shock at the kiss before allowing herself to kiss him back. No matter how much the memory of this dream would hurt in the morning, it felt too good, to real at the moment to care. He kissed her until she was breathless, her heart fluttered in the familiar way it always had when he'd kissed her. He felt her shiver slightly and realized his more than freezing body was giving her chills.

He pulled away from the kiss long enough to lift her up into his arms, allowing her a second to catch her breath before his lips sought out her own once more. He carried her the few steps across the room back to her bed. He broke away once more and laid her on the bed wrapping a comforter around her before kneeling beside her bed.

"Bella, my love, you need to rest," he spoke his concern softly. Her eyes filled with tears and in an instant they spilled onto her hot cheeks.

"I don't want to sleep, when I wake up you'll be gone again," she managed to choke out the coarse words. He shook his head.

"I won't be gone, Bella, I'm not going anywhere, I promise" She shook her head again with each word. Exasperated he climbed into the bed next to her, in spite of his soaking clothes and cold body. His arms snaked their way around her body squeezing her ever so slightly before he let one hand reach up to her face and wipe away her hot tears. He slid his fingers lightly up her cheek and into her hair, gently pulling her head to his own and kissing her lips softly for a second. He rested his forehead to hers and closed his eyes, letting her scent wash away his unease. There was no way he'd ever be leaving her side again, if this was the outcome for the very person he was trying to protect. "Isabella Swan. Bella, _my _Bella." He mumbled the words that felt so amazing to speak, even though he had no right to claim her in the slightest. "I'm not leaving. You can feel me beside you, you can feel my arms around you. You know me, my Bella. I have you in my arms in this instant and I'm not going to let you let you out of them ever again."

Even though he'd said differently himself, she felt the truth deep within her. She knew somewhere in her that he was here. She could hear the honesty that rang in his words. The last words he'd said to her before he left had lacked such honesty in every inch of his demeanor. She was so blind to not have seen that before. The fact that as he spoke the words that shattered her heart, his eyes seemed more than pained, they seemed dishonest.

"Oh Bella, I was such a fool to think I could have stayed away. I hope you can believe me when I say I thought I was doing what was best by you." He mumbled softly into her hair.

"Edward," she breathed feeling a heavy wave of exhaustion rapidly sweep through her. She'd have time to scold him in every way imaginable when the morning came. At the moment the growing flicker of ease was filling her body for the first time in weeks. "Oh Edward," she sighed. "I love you." She nuzzled into his damp shirt before drifting down into sleep.

"I love you more than words, life, or death can express." He murmured softly to her as her breathing evened out. With his Bella in his arms, nothing could have convinced him that this wasn't exactly where he was supposed to be. She was his singer in so many more ways than one. Bella was his calling in this life. Nothing of this world or beyond it would stop Edward Cullen from loving Isabella Swan with every molecule of his eternally damned being.


End file.
